


Bad kids go to hell

by 3_40AM



Series: Don't starve short fics [3]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Based off my headcanons, But here have a webber cause hes a cutie, Can't help myself Wilson is my favourite, Gen, Good times, The one fic in my gallery that isn't about Wilson pff, Webber is the gold character who's too innocent, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 12:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3_40AM/pseuds/3_40AM
Summary: Wow I write about another character besides Wilson. Woopie





	Bad kids go to hell

Webber hated spiders, didn't mean he hated himself though. He did what he could, and he's safe. He even has spider friends! Monster friends! Buggy friends! That's all that mattered to him besides surviving on the island.

The child was wild, wide-eyed and ready to take on the world, very much a trouble maker. But by no means was he a bad kid, and he did _not_ deserve to get placed in this hell. His connections were unknown, the reasons as to why he above anyone else was selected to such a murderous and unforgiving vacation from reality had been forgotten entirely. He was just here.

Webber is 8, His real named forgotten and his face obscured by fur and eyes, and aunfaltering smile that only faded when he was in the presence of fear and hurt. He befriends the monsters, though it doesn't save him from the hungry growls or hounds or the wrath of the giants. He is closest to the spider colonies, his other half rather attached to the nests and their queens. He is given permission to take from them without fight, and he does so when the others ask him to, and he complies with his warm smile. No reason to hurt his friends!

You see, Webber loves bugs.From little of what memories he holds that he is sure are his, he used to collect samples with father. Pinning their wings and legs to corkboards with their respected names labeled beneath them. Webber had been upset at first at his father's slaughtering of the little critters, but was reassured that it was for the knowledge of them. What fun was bug collecting when you couldn't say you found a knew species! And he was allowed to boast about his collection, as it was large. His faceless friends praised him as much as his father did, and he was happy.

He didn't have his buggies now, but he didn't worry about it when there were all sorts of buggies here! There! a red one, like a beetle! And one not far, green with wings! Even butterflies hovering near a bush of flowers! Webber would most definitely take some home to show his father!

_His father.._

His poor young mind was beginning to forget that much too, merging two minds of different life memories would do that to you. He remembered he took after his father a lot, eccentric, courageous, even loved to explore the unknown! Even hunting buggies! The only person here who wasn't afraid to go near the creepy crawlies was Wilson, and Webber was thankful whenever the man would join him for it.

Of course there was Wendy too. But she never really..did anything. Webber liked her, she was nice, _morbid_ ,but Webber couldn't blame her. They played a lot when Wilson couldn't and they became close. Close enough that Wendy became fine with Webber claiming her the sister he never had. 

Sometimes, if Wes wasn't busy, he and Webber would play. The two would make balloon parties (although Webber didn't have magical helium breath so his balloon-y guest were more down to earth compared to Wes'), they'd play mime with each other, even work hard to make everyone garlands! Webber loved Wes.

No other time could Webber feel so ferocious and amazing than when he was with Wigfrid. The woman was a star, and she set forth to make Webber amazing too. Wigfrid wasn't much of a play person, but she had great fun creating plays for the group with little Webber and Wendy. Together they would practice, make make-shift costumes, and once night came, they'd put on the of the Constant. They'd pretend to fight a great beast (Which usually was Wigfrid dressed in furs making growling snarls and pretending to attack), and Webber would be a legendary hero while Wendy would be the princess needing saving. Down with the beast! The battle was hard, but the princess was saved! The curtains are drawn, and Wigfrid appears from her fur costume to applaud the childrens' show, and together, hand in hand, they'd bow to their audience.

Wickerbottom was much on the calmer side, never having any need to run about fighting Wigfrids in furs. Webber never seemed to slow down for the woman, either. That is until he got tired. In his tent, Wickerbottom would tell about stories and books she read, even going as far as to recite the words written on the pages until the spider hybrid was asleep. She had such a good memory, Webber thought. She was wise and nice, and was always ready to talk about the works of ink in a pile of pages when Webber felt he was ready to settle for the day.

Wolfgang hates spiders, much like Webber did, but he too couldn't hate Webber. The small child rough-housed with the gentle giant, who was, of course, gentle. They would do arm wrestle matches, where Wolfgang would fake a lose to let the little bug lover win, or they'd lift heavy objects and see who could hold what up the longest. Sometimes Webber would be allowed to be carried up high by Wolfgang. The furry boy would outstretch his arms and he could swear he was flying. He's flying! He's flying!

Winona would teach him lots about current technology, even let him help put new inventions together when she was making them. She would point to a tool and explain what it does (or explain a tool they couldn't have in the Constant and what it was to do), and let the boy use it to piece together the machine. Of course, when their time was over, she'd go over it to make sure it would work properly. Webber was still learning.

Woodie never spoke much, but when he did, Webber couldn't help but to be fascinated by his accent. It wasn't like the British he knew all too well, or Wilson's American, or Wigfrid's Scottish,or Wolfgang's Russian, or even Wes' silence! You can speak English and French!? Of course, Woodie chuckled at Lucy's comment, whatever that was, and offered to teach Webber a bit, if he minded. Webber more than gratefully accepted, and the two sit sometimes in nature sharing words of French.

Webber could be annoying, mostly to the grumpy robot that he tended to follow around when he had nothing better to do. Too many questions for a little beastie to have, Webber would translate from whatever robotic ramble WX would spout up. That was fine, he was curious, was all. He was interested in robots, had toys of them back at home, and father even spoke of them and about how he'd loved to see one. Webber had never seen a robot, not until now. This robot was mean, and had scared the poor being when the two first encountered, but now Webber just thinks WX doesn't know how to make friends well. Webber could teach him, if the robot would stop running from him.

Webber avoided Maxwell, only because the old man's niece told him so. He would watch from a distance as Maxwell would painfully summon his clones, and off to work they went without himself needing to lift finger. Webber was more than curious about how he did that, and that wonderous wizard book he kept so safely in his coat. Webber had asked Wickerbottom about it, and not even she knew a drop of anything about that book. Webber was turned down harshly when asking the magician himself to look inside the book, but that wouldn't stop Webber. He'd get to see one day. He was sure of it.

Willow was a wonder. Fearless and sometimes (whether for better or worse) careless. She'd let Webber accompany her on her burning sprees even when she said it was best he didn't. He did, he was interested and never saw fire close, especially out of a fire pit. Father said it was too dangerous. Willow, despite thinking it may be a little dangerous, was more than happy to share her love for fire with him. Together they'd squat and burn leaves, watching as the fallen soldier of plant life withers away and hardens into a black statue, which when cooled, Webber would stomp all over. They grew a friendship that way, and when they others weren't looking, Willow would invite her little boy scout to burn things with her.

Days after days after days, Webber befriended the weirdest of people, but he was fine with that! He learned so much from them, whether it was about their culture or their hobbies, he got to learn new things for himself. Father would be proud of him, he was sure. But until his time to go home, he wanted to spend time with his friends. His play date wasn't over anyways. That was fine.

Webber isn't a bad kid, and he doesn't mind going to hell if this is what it means.


End file.
